


Bonus stories

by Notal_ent



Series: Hope's Peak do be wild tho [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, F/F, F/M, Hinata Hajime and Kamukura Izuru Are Siblings, Hinata Hajime and Kamukura Izuru Are Twins, Honetsly I should have added those tags a while ago, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27366754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notal_ent/pseuds/Notal_ent
Summary: I don't like when chatfics have chapters that aren't in a chat format, but I wanted to do actual writing for some of the scenes so I decided to put it in another fic :P
Relationships: Hinata Hajime & Kamukura Izuru, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Koizumi Mahiru/Sato, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko, Kuzuryu Natsumi/Nanami Chiaki, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Sonia Nevermind/Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham
Series: Hope's Peak do be wild tho [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998961
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	1. Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nagito_kinnie_but_im_actually_OK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagito_kinnie_but_im_actually_OK/gifts).



> Yeah if you thought my summaries were dramatic then you have a big storm coming for you in this fic lmao
> 
> Honey_Drops_Peach, you were really excited for every update so I decided to gift this fic to you, I hope you don't mind

The chilly wind and unwelcoming darkness was the first thing he noticed when he woke up. It felt like ice was slowly eating away at his face and his entire body, he shifted uncomfortably. The movement made him realise the uncomfortable texture of the surface he was lying on.

Where was he?

He attempted to open his eyes, a strong wind blew in his face in an attempt to stop him. After a few seconds, maybe minutes, he was successful and was greeted with the sight of dirt, snow and blood. All right in front of his face.

His reaction came late, as if his brain was working a few minutes behind the rest of the world, when it caught up Hajime tried to move away from the unnatural sight. He moved his hands and braced them upon the ground in an attempt to lift himself up, the snow nipped at his fingers uncomfortably.

He lifted himself only a few centimeters off of the ground before plummeting back down again, the phantom pain and unnerving buzz under his skin that was barely noticeable before seemed to seek vengeance for his movements. Only now did he realise how his limbs ached, how his right hand felt on fire while the rest of his body was freezing. The way he hit his face sparked an explosive pain throughout his face, soon he felt something warm, a liquid perhaps, run down his upper lip, then his chin, then the ground.

Hajime brought his left hand to inspect the mysterious intrusion, swiping three of his fingers across his upper lip then bringing them up and letting his eyes take in what was on them.

Blood.

Oh.

That blood came from him? Alright.

Staring at his fingers. Processing. Letting his brain from a previous time catch up to his reality. Then a scream.

Or at least he attempted to scream. In the end it came out as a muffled yelp, followed by coughing. Each raw cough felt like thunder in his aching chest.

In his delirious panic he moved his legs in an attempt to run away from the danger, even though he was lying on the ground. His right leg kicked something unknown, too soft to be a rock, too solid to be just snow. His left leg saw red, lighting bolts fired away with each new movement until Hajime finally calmed down.

Sitting in a pool of his own blood that he couldn't see or make sure was there he waited. For death, for a savior or for the sweet blessing of the unconscious that would free him from the pain and would let him see another day.

None of those came to him, seconds, minutes, hours, all of them blended together until he was sitting in a timeless vortex of chill wind, softly falling snow and pain.

A snowflake fell on his nose, more pain came and he kicked his right leg unintentionally, a chain reaction of small twitches. He kicked the unknown object again, this time he acknowledged its existence.

Maybe lying on the ground wouldn't help, is what he thought. Maybe. 

He avoided his right hand's screaming as he carefully braced himself on his elbows. The shuffle to the right that followed resembled a fish out of the water in slow motion, but he'd rather not think about that.

The unknown object that piqued his curiosity was identified after a minute of awkward and sluggish movement, maybe two or even three when you think about it . 

It was a backpack, his backpack, his brain supplied after a moment of static. His backpack… What did he carry inside it?

Inhuman static, floating liquid memories. Think about it…

He carried his school supplies, he carried his lunch in there. He always put his phone in his backpack.

His phone? He could call someone, if no savior would come to him when he was lying down then maybe he could call one.

So that's what Hajime did.

He somehow managed to bring his backpack closer to him and uncover his phone stored deep inside it.

He unlocked it with his left hand after a few, a dozen, maybe more, attempts. His vision was starting to blur, his hands were shaking, the cold was catching up to him. He called the first number that he saw.

The person he called picked up immediately.

His brother's voice reached his ears and steeled his body, if only a little. His words were muddled, the words out of his own mouth were hot metal on his tongue. His memory began existing and seemed to stop, a cycle that continued every second he continued being awake.

"Where exactly are you?"

Hajime paused, unsure. He turned his head, a building. One with windows. One window in particular caught his wandering eye. He couldn't see, it was dark and his eyes didn't want to be awake, but he did his best. Said window had two holes in it, one big and one small. A memory rushed to the front of his mind to explain what he saw, it spoke in a language he couldn't understand, only images of a raging teacher, quiet students and an array of chemicals were things he couldn't understand.

Chemicals.

"Behind the Chem Lab" 

He willed his mouth made of gum, willed it to speak. He did his best.

Other questions were asked. How many? He didn't know. What did they say? He couldn't tell. 

"Who did this?"

He couldn't remember.

Hajime stared at the seconds building up on his phone, his brother had gone silent. He followed his example.

A drop of blood on his phone screen. Weird, he hadn't realized it was still bleeding.

Dull sounds in his ears. Weird, he thought he was alone.

A blurry shadow in his peripheral vision. Very weird inteed…

A beep came from his phone, the call had ended. The shadow creeped ever closer, or maybe it was running, or maybe it wasn't there at all.

Hot breath on his face, arms lifting him up from his snowy prison. When did he lay back down? He didn't know. He didn't care. It was hard to breathe.

He looked over at the person whose arms he was in. Oh, Izuru was here. Hajime looked at his brother's face, his mouth was moving, his breath was coming in quick little puffs.

He supposed it didn't matter anymore. Izuru was here, he knew what to do, he always did. He was too tired to care anymore, none of it was important anyway.

Not the dirt he was lying on, not the snow, not the blood on his phone, not his backpack, not the broken window. Not he himself. 

His vision blurred, his body fell limp in his brother's arms, his eyes closed. He fell into the sweet abyss of the unconscious.


	2. The Middle of April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which revenge is best served before curfew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it short? Yes
> 
> Do I know how to write Izuru for a long amount of time without making it seem like he's taking too much time to do something he could do in five minutes? No
> 
> Was this satisfactory for all the people who wanted revenge? Probably not but I tired my best anyway

The middle of April, exactly two weeks after the school year began, around 8:34 in the evening. Izuru was acutely aware of his surroundings, as he always was. He had planned his course of actions right down to the minute, as he always did.

Currently he looked different, an intentional disguise. His hair was braided and hidden underneath one of his brother’s spare uniforms. A black half mask on his face, the black gloves his brother had bought for him two years ago were adorning his hands. When the two of them were little Hajime would always joke that he could blend in the night like some sort of demon, this time it was intentional.

Izuru was a man on a mission, one that had already started. It took a bit of time for him to memorize the schedules of the people in his dorm building and those of his three targets but it was worth it.

He moved through the cracked walkways of the Reserve Course campus, looking, analyzing, as he always did. 

The spike in beatings in the Reserve Course was a well known fact to him, even before Yukizome had told his class about them. With this pathetic display of power over the first years came a lot of sloppy jobs, no one in the Main Course faculty cared or noticed the very easily solvable cases. But Izuru knew, Izuru watched, Izuru noticed. Mistakes upon mistakes upon mistakes, everything he saw, everything he noticed was a mistake.

For example, a beyond obvious style in some beatings led him to the three third years who attacked his brother. 

They were the most obvious culprits he had ever seen, pathetically flaunting their weakness. Tonight they had organised themselves, something Izuru was very surprised about, since he couldn’t imagine such flimsy creatures having enough brain power to know how to organise themselves. Their “plan” was to meet in the back of the school, all of them coming at different times, and from there to pick someone random and proceed with their idiocy. Mistake.

As he observed his first target exit the dormitory he made a move, flowing from the shadows of the night into the shadows of the worm he was following. The target took one step, Izuru took two, slowly, surely, gradually, until he was close enough.

A calculated movement of his hand slammed the pathetic thing right into the side of the building, robbing it of its consciousness for some minutes.

His second target met the same fate, so did the third. He dragged them all to their meeting place behind the school, then dropped them on the ground like Sunday garbage bags.

Here came the part he was expecting most. Izuru had thought about how he would approach this moment for a day, maybe two. He didn’t waste any time and with a planned swing of his leg his heel came crashing down on the second guy’s nose. A satisfying pop vibrated through his ears.

Before the guy could even process what was happening Izuru brought his foot down on his jaw, applying enough pressure to hear another pleasant pop. He quickened his pace, bringing his foot down on the student’s neck, once, twice, then applying more pressure on it’s chest, stomping once, twice, three times, four. He heard a rib cracking.

Izuru kicked the guy one final time in the head before he moved to the one next to him. This one received a broken nose as well, a few well placed kicks in his neck and chest and for good measure, Izuru had decided this on the spot, he came around and broke both the boy’s legs, twisting them just enough to be disturbing to the unfortunate passerby who discovered his handiwork.

The third guy received much the same treatment, a broken nose, a battered neck and chest. It was starting to get dull to Izuru so he took it out on the thing’s jaw, kicking it a bit harder than he originally planned and taking out a few teeth.

By the time he was done there was three times as much blood on the floor than when he found Hajime. His shoes were splattered red, like he had just raided a wine cellar without knowing what he was doing. His gloves were clean, he took them as a “good luck charm”, not that he would need it but it felt pleasant to have them on his hands anyways.

Izuru looked at the moon, exactly 6 minutes before curfew, plenty of time. He didn’t bother looking at the carnage he left behind the school, it wasn’t satisfying enough but he had to set boundaries. It would be of no doubt that Hope’s Peak wouldn’t care less for the death of three Reserve Course students but it would cause more suspicion in his brother and the two SHSL Detectives than he would like to deal with.

He directed his eyes at one of the backpacks that had fallen to the ground, it’s contents everywhere on the dirty ground, among them a pack of tissues. Luck was always on his side, it was fact. Although he couldn't care less for his shoes he wiped them clean, dealing with bloody shoe prints was not something he wanted to deal with right now.

He stepped into the Main Course’s dormitory, no one was around to see his unusual appearance, just like he expected. With light feet he stepped into his room, Izuru had to wash his brother’s uniform and return it before he noticed it was missing, else he would get accused of trying to steal his identity again.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the end in my online math class :P


End file.
